Seasons of Change

Lately, I’ve been waking up at 4 AM every morning. I think about a lot of things—my children, my life, how I’ll spend the day ahead and how tired I’ll be with this two hour space in the middle of what was supposed to be my sleeping time. I think about song lyrics and staging and opportunities. I wonder what I would be dreaming if my mind were still at rest. I wonder what’s going on in all the other places in the world where people are awake and I wonder what’s going on with other people who are supposed to be sleeping but can’t. I think about lesson plans and story ideas and yes, even blog posts. Most of all, I think about change.

We didn’t have an autumn this year. It was summer and it was hot, and then one morning there was frost and by the evening there were flurries. And meanwhile, the air conditioners were still in the windows and no one had coats or sweaters.

There’s this perception that things shouldn’t change. I get so comfortable and mired down sometimes in the daily-ness of life, I forgot to reevaluate to see if things are actually working. And the next thing you know, it’s snowing and I don’t have a coat. I’m beginning to find this is a lot more common than I was originally led to believe.

A lot of what I blog about here—or blogged about, I suppose, since I haven’t been here for a while—is the importance of solidity in your life. I talk a lot about building a strong foundation of rhythms and routines that ground you and carry you through your days. Tonight… or this morning, rather, because 4 AM got me again… I am going to blog about change. It’s OK to change. It’s OK to look at your life and evaluate what is working and what isn’t. It’s OK to let go of things that are making you unhappy and embrace a new normal.

This feels a lot like vagueblogging, so I’ll come clean. When it became clear, after 5 weeks of homeschooling, that we had accomplished about 2 days worth of work, I put the middle boys in the public school down the street. The older two are cyber schooling. The twins and I are having a marvelous time, going to playgroups and story times and playgrounds. And you know what? I really love it. I feel like I am getting to know them for the first time. And even that’s a gateway to change, because I’m also looking for a full-time job. I’m excited and scared and embracing it and resisting it all at once.

The heart of who I am, who we are as a family, is still there. But things change. And I’m coming to terms with the fact that this isn’t some sort of betrayal or abomination, but just a part of being alive.

And now, I’ll leave you with a picture of my sweet (and changing!) babies on Halloween. And I’ll be back, because this is my space. I’ll be blogging about some arts-based and arts-integrated classes I’ve been teaching, and how we’re adapting our rhythms and routines to fit our new school situations, and what sort of fun early childhood things we’re doing. But mostly, I’ll write about how we’re changing and evolving and growing.

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5 thoughts on “Seasons of Change”

My 40s have taught me that it is not about adding anything anymore, but more about letting go what doesn’t serve me. And I am finding the hardest things to let go aren’t “things” at all, but rather my perception of what constitutes who I am. The trappings of my identity are not my essence. I am not what I do – I am so much more than that. We all are.

Annette, wish I could chat with you over a cup of tea. My family is now living most of the week in the city in a house with a postage stamp size yard (instead of our dirt road with 20 acres farmhouse) and I am running a natural health store and parceling off 3 children amongst friends who homeschool (since we can’t enroll them in 2 schools in 2 different cities!) and wow- I have totally given up on trying to be Martha Stewart…

I do not know if you know antonio machado, was a great Spanish poet. And I remembered this poem to read what you’ve written. Life is like that, a path that has to go and you never know what lies ahead, but you can not walk all the time looking back. Courage, the future is bright.
Traveler, there is no way,
is made ??by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
and looking back
one sees the path that never
has trod again.
Caminante no hay camino
Only wakes upon the sea.
Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino y nada más;
Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace el camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante no hay camino
sino estelas en la mar.

Change definitely can be scary. I have swapped homeschool for public school and back again, and I know exactly how the needs of a family (and the individuals in that family) can change and evolve over time. Best of luck in your new adventures!

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About Seasons of Joy

Seasons of Joy seeks to empower families to create peaceful rhythms and routines as well as joyful celebrations that follow the circle of the year. This blog also chronicles one family's adventures in living simply, loving exuberantly, and learning at home, at school, and throughout the community.

Purchase Seasons of Joy

Looking for a way to bring peace and joy to your day?
Seasons of Joy is my 10-week seasonal guidebook to add rhythm and fun to your daily routine. Each guidebook has ten weeks' worth of circle times, stories, arts, crafts, and handwork, painting, playtime activities and more!

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Purchase Seasons of Joy

Looking for a way to bring peace and joy to your day?
Seasons of Joy is my 10-week seasonal guidebook to add rhythm and fun to your daily routine. Each guidebook has ten weeks' worth of circle times, stories, arts, crafts, and handwork, painting, playtime activities and more!

About Seasons of Joy

Seasons of Joy seeks to empower families to create peaceful rhythms and routines as well as joyful celebrations that follow the circle of the year. This blog also chronicles one family's adventures in living simply, loving exuberantly, and learning at home, at school, and throughout the community.